Aubrey de Grey doesn’t care if you live forever. He just wants you not to get sick. It’s not exactly an easy-to-grok distinction, but that doesn’t stop the British gerontologist from trying.
In recent years, de Grey has
And this past April, de Grey’s Methuselah Foundation launched a new prize for — get ready — growing and transplanting a viable human organ. To catch up with de Grey, Wired.com crossed the pond to London and joined him for “lunch” (two pints each of London Ale). During a long chat at a pub a few blocks from his mother’s house in Chelsea, de Grey explained the differences between scientists and technologists, why Sergey Brin won’t give him any money, and how a steady diet of beer guides his thinking.
Wired.com: What’s more frustrating: Answering questions about SENS (“Strategies for Engineered Negligible Senescence“) or questions about your beard?
Aubrey de Grey: To be honest, neither are particularly frustrating. So long as I can actually get through to people, I don’t care how I do it. Most scientists will get serious media exposure about twice in their entire career. And they’ll get that because they’ve actually done an experiment that was interesting.
Well, I don’t even do experiments, right? [laughs] And I’m in the media all the bloody time. I’ve been out there represented as an immortality merchant since forever. These days, I can afford to not just acquiesce and let journalists use phrases like “immortality,” or at least not in the title of the bloody ass thing.
Embarrassing Scientists Into Doing the Right Thing
Wired.com: With LysoSENS, your big insight came from examining soil bacteria. Looking to the natural world to help solve aging in humans is, in a way, almost poetic. Are there any other examples you’ve found particularly exciting?
de Grey: Oh, totally. Let’s take MitoSENS, preventing mitochondrial mutations in a cell nucleus. Where would you look? Obviously you’d look at what genes are encoded in the mitochondria and see if there are any actual species out there that have done better than what mammals have done in moving their mitochondria out of the nucleus.
And there is one! Green algae, Chlamydomonas. Chlamydomonas reinhardtii turns out to be a reasonably standard model organism in a whole bunch of areas of biology. Consequently, its mitochondrial DNA was duly sequenced and figures were published literally 20 years ago in 1990. Only seven of the 13 proteins that we encode in the mitochondrial DNA are encoded in their mitochondrial DNA. You know, that’s quite interesting really.
Now, the idea of allotropic expression — putting mitochondrial DNA in the nucleus — had already been suggested, though it hadn’t actually at that point been suggested for aging. Also, in 1990, a very high-profile mini-review was written by Harvey Lodish and Eric Lander, two not entirely insignificant cell biologists, saying therapy with allotropic expression was … Bang! Really good.
So you would think that 10 seconds later people would be going out and actually trying to find the nuclear genes encoding the proteins that had been transferred to the nucleus. Because they had to be there. We knew damn well the proteins are very conserved; you can’t just throw one away. Well, actually there’s one you can, but …
Wired.com: But the point is no one followed up?
de Grey: I started getting interested in this in like 1996. My first paper was published in 1997. I gave my first invited talk relevant to all of this in 1998 in San Diego. By that time, I had discovered that the mitochondrial DNA of Chlamydomonas had been sequenced eight years previously. And I immediately went to look for the sequences, thinking [the genes] would obviously have been identified by that time. And they weren’t there, right?
Wired.com: And why is that?
de Grey: Because … how can I say this printably?
Wired.com: You can say it non-printably.
de Grey: Because again, scientists don’t necessarily always think like technologists. The people who were actually interested in it and actually knew that Chlamydomonas didn’t have very many protein-coding genes in their mitochondria DNA didn’t care about doing anything with the information! They just were bloody hypothesis merchants. They just wanted to bloody find things out for the sake of finding things out. Wankers!
So I got up and generally railed at this. And it worked! One person in the audience was mitochondrialist Mike King, a professor at Thomas Jefferson who wanted to know more about my question. Six months later, he rang up a biologist in Mexico and started a collaboration. And after a couple of years, all these things duly were found in sequence, and they duly told us some awfully interesting things. That was my first success in actually embarrassing so-called real scientists into doing the obvious thing.
Wired.com: You seem to take a little bit of pleasure in that.
de Grey: Yes, I certainly take a great deal of pleasure in that. And I’m not exactly embarrassed by my, perhaps, slightly confrontational style. I think there’s a place for that in science. But it was a real example of me making a contribution, even though, at that point, I had zero money.
Wired.com: It’s been a decade since you established the principles behind SENS. What’s been the most striking piece of data to support your hypotheses?
de Grey: That’s an incredibly difficult question because the nature of the whole SENS approach is divide and conquer. There are so many different technologies being brought together, so picking one across the whole board would be almost farcical.
However, I want to pick up on one particular word you used, which was to call the whole thing a hypothesis. I don’t really like to call my proposal a hypothesis, because you don’t call technological proposals hypotheses; you call scientific proposals hypotheses.
I’ve always found that basic scientists who are interested in testing hypotheses think very differently from technologists who are interested in, you know, changing the world in some way. A large part of the difficulties I’ve had in getting my colleagues in gerontology to really understand what I’m saying is that they’re all scientists and not really technologists. In this case what I’m saying is if we implement SENS properly, comprehensively, then it will actually postpone age-related ill health substantially. And we certainly don’t have any data plus or minus on that because, of course, we haven’t implemented it yet, right?
Wired.com: True.
de Grey: However, to come back to your question [laughs], there’s been masses. In fact, the single best metric, the single best piece of evidence giving an impression of how fast things are moving and have been moving, is what happened with my book: The hardback came out in 2007. When they published a paperback edition a year later, we were given the chance to update the text. They didn’t want us to do too much because, you know, it’s work. But it was impossible not to do too much. So we ended up simply writing an entire new chapter, an afterword. That was how much there was. It took a whole regular-sized chapter just to cover one year of development across all of the various SENS components.
Wired.com: I’m glad you brought up the differences between scientists and technologists. At age 30, you switched fields from artificial intelligence to biology. It’s been said people who switch fields at relatively late stages in their careers tend to do particularly inventive work. Why is that, and what from your previous scholarship did you bring to gerontology?
de Grey: First of all, research is a very transferable skill. If you’ve learned how to work on really hard problems, you can apply that to a different domain very easily. But the biggest handicap in research is an ability to think outside the box. The handicap is being encumbered by all the conventional wisdom in a given field.
I came in having made — albeit unpublished but nevertheless very significant — inroads in software verification. So I had a suitably high opinion of my own abilities to research. Second, I was aware of this general trend in science of new people coming in, so I felt confident I had a good chance of making a contribution. Third, from the beginning my goal was not to become an experimentalist with a lab, but a generalist surveying the literature and coming up with syntheses from disparate areas.
Through my wife, who taught me biology, I was very much aware that “theoreticians” or generalists are almost non-existent in biology. Unlike physics, where you’ve got whole departments of theoreticians trying to bring ideas together from disparate areas, and pacing up and down and talking to themselves and not doing experiments … in biology, that’s virtually unknown.
And to the extent it is known, it’s given very little respect, because it’s awfully easy to do incredibly bad theoretical biology just by going out and identifying some interesting problem and reading maybe 10 percent of the relevant literature and coming out with some gloriously economical hypothesis and rushing into print without actually bothering to read the other 90 percent. This happens a hell of a lot.
But the thing is, a small coterie of theoreticians in biology who do take care have a rather high hit rate. If you look at winners of the Nobel Prize in biology, you’ll find a fair smattering of people who don’t know how to work a pipette.
Wired.com: The results from research into mouse longevity won’t necessarily be directly applicable to human biology. Nevertheless, you’ve made it clear such work is vital for getting someone like Oprah to help champion the anti-aging cause. When do you foresee yourself getting that kind of exposure?
de Grey: Someone like Oprah is not really too keen to get too close in bed with people who don’t have mainstream credentials and authority. But it’s really changing fast. A month or two ago, one of my colleagues, Tony Atala, who runs an enormous group working in tissue engineering at Wake Forest, was on Oprah. He’s on my research advisory board and is associated with my journal and so on. Even though his work is not mainly focused on aging, the show was basically about aging. He was very, very gung-ho about the potential for regenerative medicine to postpone aging in the relatively foreseeable future.
Wired.com: And mice are the key.
de Grey: I do think it’s going to start with mice. What’s going to happen is the curmudgeons — the card-carrying gerontologists who think it’s very dangerous to be over-optimistic — will eventually recognize the data available to us from mice is so solid we can go out publicly and say, “It’s only a matter of time.” That’s going to take a panel of interventions in mice that’s so comprehensive we actually add two whole years to the lifespan of mice that are already in middle age before we start.
That may be overcautious. We may be able to get gerontologists on board with a more modest result than that. However, at that point, game over. My job will be done. I can retire. Because that will be the point when Oprah will be all over it and the following day it will become impossible to get elected unless you have a manifesto commitment to have a war on aging.
And there will be abundant people who are better than me at all the things I have to do at the moment, and I will no longer be necessary. And I shall fade away into glorious obscurity and you won’t be able to find me, even if you offer me a beer.
Wired.com: Well, you’ll be in a pub probably.
de Grey: Yes, but I won’t be in a pub with a journalist. [laughs]
Authors: Steven Leckart